


Tell Me Where It Hurts

by Saklani



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Illusions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saklani/pseuds/Saklani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean must help Sam deal with disease and dark visions brought on by the touch of an Atheri.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me Where It Hurts

Everything hurt. That was the first thing Sam registered when he dragged himself awake. No part of his body felt good- his eyes stung, his muscles ached, his head throbbed, his bladder neared explosion, and his skin felt tight and hot. He opened his mouth and groaned in distress as even his teeth and tongue throbbed.

Sam shut his eyes again, trying to gather enough energy to get up and go to the bathroom. With a pain-filled moan, he heaved himself off the bed and stumbled through the motel room toward the bathroom. Everything spun around him, but he staggered to the toilet and managed to get his boxers off. As his bladder mercifully emptied, his brain stuttered to life. With a shout, he fell to his knees, clutching his head.

Dean shot upright in bed at Sam's cry. He looked wildly around, not entirely sure what woke him until he saw Sam's empty bed. The light filtering under the bathroom door clued him in as Sam cried out again. Pushing his covers back, Dean rolled out of the bed and knocked at the door. "Sammy? You okay?"

Sam curled on the floor, pulled as tight in on himself as he could. He rocked against the tiles, moaning and crying Dean's name. He did not register anything around him.

Hearing his name, Dean tried the door and it opened easily. He saw Sam on the floor, curled tight and making no sense at all. Dean crouched immediately and tugged Sam to him. "Sammy, what's wrong? I'm right here, talk to me."

When Dean's voice finally penetrated the haze, Sam uncurled enough to look for the source. Seeing his brother, Sam's eyes widened, and he threw his arms around Dean’s neck. "Dean. Dean." He clutched him tightly, ignoring the shooting pain all over his body. "You're all right."

"I'm fine, Sam." Dean tightened his grip on Sam, lowering himself to the bathroom floor so that he could pull him in closer and hold him tighter. "What's wrong, Sammy?"

Sam tightened his fingers in Dean's clothes, body shaking fiercely. "So much blood. Was everywhere. God." He sobbed, choking on mucus and tears. "Nothing left of your face. Couldn't even see your eyes, but you-” Sam gulped a few ragged breaths. "-you kept on pleading, man. Wouldn't believe. Wouldn't... fuck. Fuck." He pushed away from Dean, weak body giving out so he crumpled again. 

Dean was instantly next to him and hauling Sam back against him. "I'm fine, Sam. Not hurt at all. It was a dream, Sammy. Just a bad dream." Dean flashed to holding a toddler Sam in his arms when his brother woke from nightmares.

Sam shook his head, but clutched tightly to Dean, crying into his shoulder as if he would never stop. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. 

At a loss, Dean held his brother and rocked him slowly back and forth. He murmured nonsense into Sam's ear, assuring him that he was there and fine, while he wondered what could have gotten to Sam that badly.

Finally, Sam's aches and pains caught up with him, and he groaned in Dean's ear. "Where are we? What happened?"

"We're in the motel... in the bathroom." Dean pulled back slightly to look into Sam's face. "I woke up when you screamed and found you in here, a wreck." He stroked Sam's hair back from his face, the damp strands sticking at his temples.

"Motel? Where, Dean? What city? What- what case?" Sam shivered at the light touch over his face, eyes haunted and still looking at Dean as if he didn't believe in him.

"We were hunting an Acheri in Madison, Wisconsin. Just vanquished the ugly bitch tonight." Dean looked at Sam, more worried than he'd been even a few minutes prior. "Sam, are you okay?"

"Acheri," Sam mumbled, nodding. "I- I remember that... it was months ago." He yanked back from Dean and promptly fell back as his arms gave out. "And after that I- I- they said I had to let go and use my powers. You tried to stop me, but I- I didn't listen. And after Lilith fell..." Sam rolled on his side and curled up again.

"Sam!" Dean stared at his raving brother and felt a bone deep fear. He grabbed Sam and made him roll to face Dean again. "We need to get you in the bed, Sam. This bathroom is not the place to do this." Tugging his brother close, Dean hugged him and pressed his cheek to Sam's head.

Dean's skin felt cool and nice against Sam's feverish face.  He wanted to settle against Dean, cling to him and forget everything else. But ugly images intruded, and he pushed away again.  "No, Dean.  I'm dirty.  Foul.  Evil.   You should kill me."

Clinging to his brother, Dean used all his strength to keep Sam anchored to his body.  "Sam, stop it.  You're not evil or dirty."  He struggled to keep hold of Sam, determined to get his brother out of this nightmare.

"You don't know," Sam said, shivering.  "How can you not know?"  He rubbed a hand over his face.  "'M so hot, Dean.  Why's it so hot?" 

"C'mon, Sammy, let's get you into the shower.  I think you need to cool down some."  Dean held on to Sam, his brother's blazing body heat the only thing keeping him warm in the chill of the bathroom at three in the morning.  He hauled Sam to his knees with a groan.  "You gotta help me here, Sam.  We need to get you in the shower."

Sam fought to get his legs under him, even as his body trembled and his head whirligigged.  "Should leave me, Dean," he mumbled.  "Just leave me here.  Don't let me hurt you again."

"Sam, you've never hurt me.  Not ever."  Dean supported Sam, holding him close while he reached out to turn on the water.  He knew that too cold would shock Sam, but he needed to get Sam's temp down.  Looking down, Dean groaned-- Sam was wearing his pajama pants, and Dean didn't want to have to deal with the wet laundry.  Sighing, he propped Sam against the wall and knelt down, tugging Sam's pajamas down as he went and then tugging them off Sam's feet.

"No.  No, don't," Sam cried, as Dean began to tug off his pants.  He panicked, scrambling away as best he could, and tripped over his own feet.  His back cracked against the tile wall as he fell and landed hard on his side with a huff of lost breath. 

Dean stopped, shocked at Sam's violent reaction.  "Sammy, relax, you need to shower, and you're not doing it fully dressed."  He tossed the pajamas to the corner of the bathroom and crouched by Sam's side, pressing a hand to his brother's forehead.  "You're burning up.  Now, help me get you into the shower."

"Leave me alone!" Sam yelled, eyes blazing with something foreign and dark.  The momentary spark of energy instantly deserted him, and he lay back on the floor.  "Go away," he mumbled miserably. 

"Damn it, Sam!  I am _not_ going away."  Dean grabbed Sam's arm, hauled him to a sitting position and then wrapped his arms around Sam's chest.  If his brother wouldn't help him, then Dean'd just get him in the shower by himself.

Sam hissed through his teeth in pain as Dean yanked him up.  One part of him wanted to fight, get away, but the rest ached to lean into the support Dean offered, even angrily.  He got his feet under him and weakly helped push himself back to his feet.  "If you knew," he muttered.   

"C'mon, Sam, either tell me what you're talking about or forget it.  It was all just a bad dream."  Scowling at Sam's words, Dean pulled back the curtain to the shower and nudged him.  "Get in the water, or I'm coming in with you."  He looked sternly at Sam, waiting for him to make his decision.

Sam dredged up a weak glare for Dean and then dragged himself into the tepid water.  He leaned heavily against the wall and let the sweat rinse away.  "What if it wasn't?  What if it was a vision?" he asked quietly.

Dean shook his head, sliding down the wall outside the shower to sit and wait for his brother.  "Dude, it wasn't a vision.  If it had been, you'd have come out of it differently... have felt it differently.”

"I feel like crap after them," Sam muttered, "and I feel like crap now.  Only worse."  He could almost feel his temperature drop as the water cooled him down.  Shutting his eyes, he saw again the bleak tableau- himself standing in a dark room, torn bodies littering the floor and Dean, chained and gagged, his whole body bruised and bloody, especially his face and ass.  Sam gasped and bashed his head against the tile wall, as if he could smash out the image.

"Jesus, Sam."  Dean shot to his feet at the sound of Sam hitting the wall.  He tugged back the curtain on the shower and grabbed his brother's arm.  "Stop fucking hurting yourself.  Christ!"  He shoved his free hand through his hair, ready to yank it out in frustration.

Sam's hand shot out and caught Dean's arm in a tight grip.  He stared at his brother with huge, frightened eyes, before calming again.  "You are all right?" he asked in a small voice. 

Dean's heart clenched at the lost look in his brother's eyes.  "I'm fine, Sammy.  Couldn't be better."  He smiled, his hand coming up to pat and soothe his brother's.  "Promise."

Sam breathed out a long sigh and nodded, which made the world swim again.  "Feel like crap, Dean.  What's wrong with me?  I have memories... going dark side.  Killing people.  So real."  He trembled and nearly collapsed again, holding himself up by sheer force of will.

"I'm not sure what's wrong, Sam.  But none of those things happened.  I promise."  Dean squeezed Sam's arm, loathe to let go in case his brother managed to hurt himself.  

Sam lurched out of the shower and nearly fell onto the toilet, cradling his face in his hands.  "Not just dreams," he whispered.  "Not visions, either."  His stomach clenched, and he doubled over to prevent throwing up, taking deep breaths.  "You screamed so loud.  I can still hear you." 

Dean grabbed a towel, cursing the small size and tossed it over Sam's shoulders before turning back to grab another.  He waited while Sam hunched over, completely at a loss as to how to convince Sam that nothing he saw was remotely real.

Sam finally got his stomach to stop spin-cycling and lifted his head again, staring at his brother with glazed eyes.  "'M sorry, Dean.  Wish..."  His eyes rolled into the top of their sockets, as he slumped off the toilet and passed out before his head cracked the floor.

"Fuck!"  Dean dropped the towel on the floor and crouched next to Sam.  "Fucking hard-headed brothers," he grumbled under his breath, before picking Sam's head off the ground and checking to be sure nothing was bleeding.  Straining, Dean managed to angle himself mostly under Sam and heaved him as upright as he could before partially dragging and partially carrying Sam back into the other room.  He managed to get Sam on the bed -barely- before dropping next to him, panting.

Sam's eyes fluttered, and he groaned again.  Feeling someone warm beside him, he reached back tentatively.  "Dean?" he asked. 

Dean sighed softly and dropped his hand to Sam's arm.  "Yeah, Sammy.  I'm here."

Sam breathed out a sigh of relief and trailed his fingers up Dean's arm, assuring himself that his brother was intact and uninjured.  He relaxed against the mattress, exhausted and sick in body and heart.  "What's wrong with me, Dean?" 

"I think the Acheri got to you."  Dean sighed.  "They're known for causing havoc and illness."  He rolled his head to face Sam, still gripping his arm securely.  "You've never hurt me, Sammy.  Not ever."

Sam laughed hoarsely and then coughed until a trickle of blood ran from his mouth. "I left you."

"You didn't, Sam. You're right here, the same place you were when you went to sleep last night." Dean squeezed Sam's arm and then turned his head. "Sam! Shit... you're bleeding from your mouth."

Sam lifted his hand and wiped the blood away with the back. "Yeah," he said, looking at the trail of red. "Hurt everywhere, Dean. Room's spinning." He laid his hand back down. "Meant when I went to college."

Dean sighed. "Forget about college, Sam. It was a long time ago." He looked Sam over and cold fear gripped his stomach. "We need to take you to the hospital, Sam."

Sam coughed some more, breath rattling around in his lungs. He nodded weakly and clung to Dean. "Yeah. Ok. Have to get dressed. Sweats and hoodie?"

"Yeah, that should be enough, Sam." Dean heaved himself up, shoving off the bed and digging through his bags. He pulled out jeans, a tee shirt and socks out and dragged everything on.

Sam shut his eyes and tried to find the strength to drag his ass out of bed. Despite everything Dean said, he could not shake off the dreams or hallucinations or whatever they had been. They were seared across his brain and eyeballs, until he wanted to scratch them out. Finally, he hoisted himself to a seated position and reached slowly for his duffle, feeling like he was moving through sand.

Once Dean was dressed, he stomped into his boots and laced them up before moving to Sam's side. His brother was moving so slow, and Dean was worried. He grabbed Sam's sweats and started to put them on him they way he'd done when Sam was little.  
 "Thanks," Sam murmured, letting Dean pull his clothes on.  He lifted his limbs as best he could to help.  There was no sense fighting to get away from Dean now.  Even if Sam wanted to, he could not have hurt a fly, let alone his tough older brother.  And with the return of some of his faculties came the return of sense.  Dean was obviously unharmed, so Sam could not have tortured and raped him.  Even if he clearly remembered doing it.

When Sam was dressed again, Dean stood up and took a deep breath.  "How steady are you, Sammy?  Can you stand?"  He stepped back, wanting to give his brother as much space as he could since Sam kept acting like a caged animal.

Sam eased himself off the bed and to a standing position.  The world swayed sickeningly around him, but he staggered forward a few feet.  "I- You might have to make sure I don't fall," he said, reaching out to the wall to steady himself.  "Everything's spinning."

Dean moved right into Sam's space and wrapped an arm around his waist.  He pulled Sam's arm over his shoulders and took much of his brother's weight on him, while guiding Sam to the door.  Guiding Sam to the Impala, he propped Sam against the back door and opened the passenger's door before bustling Sam inside.

Sam laughed and then coughed up a little more blood.  "I'm pretty fucked up, man.  Least I seem to be thinking straight again... though I'm still having trouble believing we just killed the Acheri.  I remember that as being months ago.  Over a year."  He flopped in the passenger seat, legs spread out.

"Yeah, well... it's not like the doctors can fight whatever the Acheri has done.  I'll have to figure that part out."  Dean closed the door and moved around to his side.  He took a few deep breaths and prayed like hell that he'd be able to figure it out.  

Sam settled against the seat and shut his eyes again, tired as though he had lived the horrible months he'd dreamed.  When Dean did not get in right away, Sam tilted his head to look at him.  He smiled sadly at the near-panic on Dean's face.  If his brother knew the truth about Sam, he'd leave Sam to die on the floor of the bathroom.  "Dean," he called weakly.

Dean climbed into the car.  "Yeah, Sammy?"  Reaching out, he dropped his hand on Sam's arm, stroking it gently to let him know he was there.  "The hospital's not too far."  He vaguely remembered seeing the blue signs off the exit before the one for their motel.

Sam sighed and smiled sadly at Dean.  "Sorry for being so much trouble... again."  He shut his eyes momentarily, felt the Impala rumble beneath him and take off down the road.  Forcing himself out of the drifting doze he had started to fall into, he said, "Never want to hurt you, Dean.  Won't let myself.  Promise."

"You're never any trouble, Sammy.  And I'm not worried about you hurting me.  You couldn't and you wouldn't."  Dean's voice was laced with conviction.  Never in his life would the thought of Sam hurting him cross Dean's thoughts.  He kept stealing glances at Sam, trying to be sure his brother wasn't worsening.

"I shot you with rock salt.  Twice."  Sam opened his eyes now and then to find Dean looking his way.  He reached out to put a hand on Dean's leg, more reassurance.  "Have to watch me carefully."

"Dude, rock salt.  Not going to kill me."  Dean breathed easier when Sam touched him.  His brother crossing that barrier after his earlier behavior was a balm to Dean.  He smiled at Sam and gripped his shoulder in support.

Sam sighed and squeezed Dean's leg in return.  "Hurt you though.  You were so angry at me."  His head slid forward, muscles like rubber.  He coughed up some more blood.  "Dreamed such fucked up shit."

At least Sam was admitting that it was dreams.  Dean sighed in relief.  "Dude, yeah it hurts, but shit, brothers do that to each other.  We both know how to hurt the other better than anyone."  Dean coughed after admitting that, looking sideways at Sam and accelerating slightly.  "Acheri are known to create fucked up dreams."

"Based on what's already in your mind," Sam said softly.  He ran his fingers over Dean's leg and then settled again.  "So tired.  But don't want to sleep again."

"Almost there, Sam."  Dean couldn't blame Sam for not wanting to sleep.  The thought of sleeping and being tormented by dreams wasn't fun in the least.  But, Dean knew that Sam needed some real sleep - his dreams had obviously not let him rest at all.

Sam nodded and huffed out a ragged breath.  "They always pick on my sleep, man," he muttered.  "Never just let me have a peaceful night anymore.  Visions, hallucinations, nightmares... never fucking ends." 

Dean nodded, not sure if Sam was even looking at him.  It sucked that his brother couldn't seem to get a decent night’s rest.  He was at a loss as to what to do with Sam, the mounting problems more than he could deal with alone.  Pulling into the Emergency Room parking, Dean pulled right up to the doors and looked at Sam.  He dug out one of their fake insurance cards and memorized the names.  "Okay, for the duration here, we're Jake and Matt Waller."  He pointed at himself for Jake and then pushed open the door.

"Hey, Jake," Sam said, "can you give Matt here a hand?"  He undid his belt and wrestled open the door, but waited for his brother to come around before trying to haul his ass out of the car.  Another wave of coughing hit him, and he spat a bunch of blood out.  "Crap."

Dean wrapped his arm around Sam and hauled him to his feet.  Turning them slowly, Dean guided Sam into the ER and put him in the nearest wheelchair.  Dean pushed Sam to the triage nurse and waited for her to acknowledge them.  "My brother's coughing up blood.  He's dehydrated, and we need someone to look at him fast."  Dean flashed a big smile, all wide eyes and charm.  "Please."

Nurse Watson scanned Sam quickly and gestured them forward.  "Now, I know you're worried, honey," she said to Sam, "but I just need to take some information before we can get you in.  I'll page the orderly right away, though."  
   
Sam smiled a little and nodded, reciting their fake information.  He leaned hard against the arms of the wheelchair, trying not to fall out.  Before they finished, an orderly appeared to wheel Sam away.  He waited impatiently until they were done and then grabbed the chair and began hustling toward the back rooms.  "Jake.  Want my brother.  Please."  
   
The orderly nodded and gestured Dean to follow them, not slowing down.  He took Sam, to a semi-private room and helped him on a bed, pulling the curtain before hustling out again.    
   
Sam leaned back against the wall, fever burning up his skin again.  His eyes were glassy and unfocused, but he still reached unerringly for Dean.

Dean curled his hand in Sam's, brushing his hair off his forehead and talking nonsense just so Sam could hear his voice.  The worry increased tri-fold each time Sam turned vacant eyes in his direction.  After what Dean was sure was a solid hour had passed, a doctor came into their little cubicle.  "He's burning up again, getting delirious, I think.  He needs fluids."  Dean looked at Sam while he talked, worry evident in his voice.

The doctor, a grave Indian man in his fifties, nodded and gently shooed Dean away.  He looked at the chart, including the temperature taken earlier by the nurse and frowned.  Speaking his own version of soothing words to Sam, he began to take his vitals and give him a complete check-up.   
   
Sam responded minimally, only vaguely aware of the strange hands manipulating him.  He drifted back into the world of nightmares and began to whimper as the hallucinations started up again. 

Watching his brother intently, Dean scowled at the doctor.  He moved to Sam's side when the whimpers started, stroking down one arm and murmuring in his ear.  Dean tried to anchor Sam to the here and now, assuring him that no matter what he saw in his dreams, Dean was safe and right there with him.

The doctor frowned at what he saw and said, "I'm going to admit your brother for the rest of the night, Mr. Waller.  I don't like his temperature reading or the blood he's been coughing up.  We'll get him on fluids now and run some tests to pin down what's causing this.  We'll also get the fever down."

"Yeah, thanks.  I need to make a call - to our uncle.  But, I want to stay with him tonight."  Dean continued to stroke Sam's arm, hoping that his brother could hear his voice, could recognize it through the illness.

The doctor frowned a little.  "It's against our policy to allow people to stay overnight," he said stiffly.  He pressed a call button.  "I shall be right back."  
   
Sam stirred on the bed and groaned, "Dean.  Dean."  His eyes fluttered a little, as he fought the sleep that wanted to claim him.

"If I don't stay, he doesn't stay."  Dean stared hard at the doctor and then turned back to Sam, murmuring his name softly in his ear and assuring him that Dean was with him.  He hoped the doctor wouldn't ask, but Dean had a story in place for the slip in the names if it came to that.

The doctor scowled and said, "I imagine you want your brother to get well.  He needs to stay here at least the rest of the night for that to be possible."  He stepped out of the room for a moment.

Dean's face went mutinous at the doctor's words.  He wasn't leaving, regardless of what the man said, but he wouldn't bring it up again for now.  

Sam forced himself out of the haze and reached for Dean again.  "Dean?  Wha- where?"

Grabbing Sam's hand, Dean shushed him softly.  "S'okay, Sammy.  I'm here... you're in the hospital."  He stroked Sam's hair back off his forehead.

Sam started to answer, but two nurses entered.  They bustled Dean efficiently out of the way and hooked up Sam to an IV and stripped him out of his clothes and into hospital garb.  By the time they finished, the doctor had returned.  He looked at Dean with disapproval.  "We need to run some tests now.  You need to wait in the waiting room, please.  We'll talk with you later."

Dean looked at Sam and shook his head.  "I'm not leaving him.  Look, I'll stay out of the way, but I'm not going anywhere."

The doctor turned positively thunderous.  "I do not wish to have security force you to leave, but if you persist, I will."

Sam blinked at the interchange, just barely understanding, but saw the anger on both faces.  He reached for Dean.  "I'll be good," he slurred.  "You can wait outside..."

Dean took his hand, stared into Sam’s sick face for a moment and then nodded. He barely kept himself from storming out of the room, cursing their life.  
~~~~~~~

Doctor Narayan walked into the waiting room two hours later and went over to Dean. "Mr. Waller, I have news about your brother." 

Dean pushed off the wall he had been leaning against, impatiently waiting for news, and strode to meet the doctor. "How's he doing?"

Dr. Narayan sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Our tests show that your brother has a severe ear infection. Severe enough to have caused a dangerously high fever, blood in his throat that he’s been coughing up and hallucinations. Sam has lapsed into an uneasy sleep, but even with the drugs, his fever remains too high and he’s talking in his sleep."

Cursing softly, Dean scrubbed his hand over his face. "Yeah, he was having some pretty bad dreams tonight."

"I have never seen such an aggressive ear infection before. We are trying antibiotics now, but your brother is weak, disoriented and needs nursing and monitoring. My best guess is he shall be here for several days. We're having him admitted now. There will be paperwork." Dr. Narayan paused. "Do you have any questions?"

Dean nodded. "I know I acted rash earlier, but my brother's all I have left in this world. I promise to stay out of the way, but I want to stay with him." Sighing, Dean looked away. "He responds to my voice, and if I'm not here when he wakes, he'll freak out."

Dr. Narayan sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "He's not making any sense right now, and it would be good not to leave him alone. You can stay at least until he is admitted to the regular hospital. Then it's up to them."

"Thank you." Dean shook the doctor's hand. "I'll fill out whatever paperwork is necessary and stay out of the way."

Dr. Narayan 'hmphed' once, but shook Dean's hand. "Your brother's room is empty right now. This would be a good time to see him. He's not awake, but he may benefit from your presence, as you say." He nodded once and disappeared down the hall.

Dean slipped back into Sam's room and pulled the chair as close to Sam as he could. He took Sam's hand in his own and started talking nonsense to him, trying to give Sam his voice to focus on.

Sam swam in a red haze of nightmares and pain and drugs. But Dean's voice beckoned like the only light in a dark cavern. He latched on and refused to let go, dragging through the layers that separated them until his eyes, glassy, but focused, opened. "Dean?"

"I'm here, Sammy... right here." Dean squeezed Sam's hand, stroking his hair back from his face over and over in the soothing motion his brother always responded to.

Sam blinked a few times, assuring himself of reality.  His voice came out a croaking whisper.  "Was hurting you again, Dean.  You kept begging me to stop.  And then I heard another you, real you."  A tear leaked out of his right eye.  "Make it stop, Dean.  I can't- I can't go on watching this... doing this..."

"I'm trying Sam.  Gonna call Bobby soon... just had to see how you were doing."  Dean's eyes were laced with pain, his gut twisting at the torture his brother was going through.  "Doc says you have an ear infection, and the fever is resisting the meds.  They're going to keep you in for observation at least for tonight, maybe a few days.  I think once they get more fluids in you, that'll help." 

"Ear infection?" Sam asked in disbelief, shivering under the covers as he was struck by chills.  He gasped suddenly and touched his right ear.  "She touched it," he said.  "The Acheri... she touched my ear..."

Dean cursed under his breath.  "That's how she got to you then."  Taking Sam's hand down from his ear, Dean held tight.  "We'll figure this out, Sam, and make you better.  Unfortunately, I think the meds will lead to more sleeping."  Even though Dean knew that Sam needed rest, he was well aware that sleep wasn't necessarily the answer.  "They're letting me stay here until you’re moved into the main hospital, but then I have to fight again to stay with you."

Sam groaned and squeezed Dean's hand gently. "Was hard to wake up now," he admitted, forcing his eyes to stay open. "Want to sleep, but don't."

"Are you getting any rest when you sleep?" Dean wasn't above pumping Sam full of caffeine to keep him awake if needed.

"No. Nightmares 'bout you," Sam said. He rubbed his thumb over Dean's hand and sighed. "Why’d you have to fight?"

"They keep saying that I can't be here outside of visiting hours." Dean shrugged, knowing he'd do whatever it took to be with Sam. 

Sam sighed, and his eyes tried to close again. "Keep me awake, Dean," he slurred. "I don't want to hurt you again. See you bleeding."

Dean stroked Sam's arm, and nodded. "Sammy. Open your eyes, Sam." He curled his hand around the side of Sam's face, stroking his thumb over the high cheekbone. "Wake up, Sammy."

Sam shivered at the hand on his cheek and flinched away a little. "Don't deserve to be touched like that," he mumbled. "Too much blood."

"Sam, it's not true. None of it is true at all." Dean stroked his thumb over Sam's cheek again, his fingers rubbing lightly at the back of Sam's head.

"So real," Sam said, distress lacing his voice. "And I'm doing all of it. And I want to... I want to. Dean." Chills made his body dance under the covers again.

"Shhhh, not real, Sam. Not real." Dean leaned forward and stroked Sam gently.

"If it's the Acheri, drugs won't help, Dean," Sam said, unable to help leaning into the touch. "Has to run its course. Gonna get worse." He blinked slowly and then focused on Dean. "Should I stay here?" 

Dean bit his lower lip, stroking Sam's hair back from his forehead. "Don't know, Sammy. What do you want?" 

Sam tried to think clearly beyond the illness and drugs, but found himself unable to concentrate. He shook his head weakly and said, "Don't know. Can't think."

Every protective instinct told Dean to tuck Sam in and push him to sleep. But the sleep was obviously doing him more harm than good. So, Dean sat there, talking to Sam, stroking his head and hoping to keep him awake. “Don’t have to decide now, Sammy.”

Sam listened to Dean's voice, using it as an anchor to the real world. He pulled together enough of his wits to make a decision. "Dean, I want to get out of here," he mumbled. "Find us somewhere safe. Come back for me."

"I want them to move you to a regular room first. Need you to get more fluids to pump up your system before I take you out of here, Sam." Dean squeezed Sam's arm and stroked his forehead again.

"Yeah, Dean," Sam rasped, "that's what I'm saying."  He breathed in and out a few times, pulling together his strength.  "Go make arrangements.  Come back for me."

Dean nodded.  "You want me to go now or wait until they've moved you?"  Though he loathed leaving Sam alone at all, Dean wanted this to be on Sam's terms and whatever he wanted was most important right now.

"When they come," Sam said.  "Make sure you know what room I go to."  He coughed, breathing wheezing in his lungs, and a trickle of blood ran from his mouth.  "Don't want a crappy motel, Dean.  Find somewhere better.  Please."

"Yeah, Sammy, anything you want."  Dean grabbed a tissue to wipe up the blood from Sam's lips.  "You just concentrate on fighting the Acheri’s touch as much as you can.  I won't leave until I see you settled in your new room."

"Don't know how to fight that," Sam said, eyes half-closed again.  "Just trying not to sleep.  Tell me where we’ll stay.  Keep me awake."

"I'll find us a house, Sammy.  See if I can get something to rent so we have a whole place to ourselves.  I'll take care of you, make sure you get the fluids you need and chase away the badness in your sleep."  Dean's voice choked up over the thought of all the things Sam had to go through.  His brother deserved a chance to just stop, to not have to deal with things like demons and demon sickness.

Sam chuckled weakly and reached out his free hand for his brother to join the other.  "Not five anymore, Dee."  He used the shortened nickname for Dean that he’d used when he was little.

Dean smiled, taking Sam's hand in his own.  "Yeah, I know, Sammy-boy.  But, you're my baby brother, and you always will be."  Stroking his thumbs over the tops of Sam's hands, Dean smiled and tried to soothe him.

Sam nodded once and curled their fingers together.  "Hate this, Dee.  Used to being sick, but these dreams.  They're so strong.  Even with you here, telling me it's all right, I feel sick, wrong... evil."

"You couldn't be evil, Sam.  Promise."  Dean held tight to Sam's hands and prayed the doctor would hurry back so he could see Sam settled in another room.  

"You know better," Sam chided without heat.  He shut his eyes, still holding tight to Dean's hands.  Within a moment, he began to whimper, and his eyes flew open again.  He refocused on Dean and said, "A house?" wanting his brother to talk some more.

"Yeah, Sammy, a house.  Someplace quiet, but I promise to keep you company.  You'll be so sick of me by the time you get better."  Dean smirked at Sam.  "You'll be shoving me out the door to give you some peace and quiet." 

A nurse entered and fussed with Sam's IV drip, also checking his temperature.  "We'll be moving you to a new room soon, Mr. Waller," she told Sam, smiling at them both before trotting out again.  
   
"Spend all my time with you already," Sam said, as if nobody else had been in the room.  "Not completely sick of you yet.  Just once in awhile."  He smiled a little to ease the sting of his words.

Dean laughed, full throated.  He knew that he got on Sam's nerves far more than he was saying, but the feeling was mutual.  "Sounds like we'll have a new room for you in a little bit, Sammy.  Am hoping that I can get through to Bobby and get him researching some quick ways to get you better.  Anything else you want me to get?"

"Place with a big enough bed for me," Sam said with a tired smile.  "And a lot of hot chocolate."

"Definitely a bed big enough for you, and I'll be sure to buy out the hot chocolate at the store.  You can have all of that you want."  Dean smiled back at Sam, squeezed his hands and looked at the clock on the wall.  He wanted to get out of there to do what needed doing and couldn't figure out what was taking them so long to get his brother transferred.  

"Dean.  Go."  Sam said softly.  "I'll be all right for a little while.  Go."  He let go of Dean's hands and tucked them under the thin blanket, shivering again.    "I'm not leaving until I know what room you're in.  

Dean pulled the blankets up around Sam's shoulders, tucking him in.  Hospitals were never warm enough and his brother's shivering was worrying.  

"Worrier," Sam said softly, but his eyes shown with gratitude.  He didn't want to be alone, either.  "Get a place with a decent heater, too."  

"I will, Sammy.  You'll be comfortable, I promise."  Dean stroked Sam's arm through the blankets, trying to get some heat back into his body.  

  A new doctor entered, followed by a pair of men wheeling a gurney.  He glanced over Dean perfunctorily and then looked at Sam.  "Mr. Waller, we're going to move you to your new room, after we take some blood for tests."  He looked at Dean again.  "I'm afraid your... friend will have to leave now."  

"He's my brother."  Dean straightened up and turned to stare the doctor down.  "What room will he be in when I come back to visit?"  

The doctor sneered slightly at Dean.  "He'll be on the third floor.  That's all we know right now.  Check in with the nurses." 

Sam chuckled a little and then pitched into a coughing fit.  After calming down, he gently released Dean and said, "I'll be all right, Dean.  You go now."

 Dean turned and stroked a hand over Sam's head until he calmed before turning back to the doctor.  "I'll check in there then."  He dismissed the doctor and turned back to Sam.  "I'll be back, try and rest if you can."  

Sam nodded and smiled for Dean.  "I'll see you soon, Dean."  He shut his eyes and tried to relax, even as the dark dreams sucked him back down.  

Staring at his brother for a minute, Dean turned and gave the doctor a hard stare.  He wanted to say something, but knew it was futile, so Dean pushed past the man and headed out to the Impala to call Bobby.  
~~~~~~~

Dean pulled up to a small house, turning into the driveway and stopping the car.  "This is our place for the next bit, Sam."  He looked at his brother, seeing the pale skin and the sweat beading his brow.  Dean had been reluctant to take Sam out of the hospital, but knew his brother wanted to be somewhere more comfortable. 

Sam smiled wanly at his brother and said, "Looks great, Dean.  Help me inside?"   He used the seat to prop himself up, the Acheri's disease still heating his body and making him shiver.  But at least he was awake, away from the dreams. 

"Yeah," Dean climbed out of the car and moved to Sam's door, opening it so his brother could step out.  He held his arm out to help Sam, if needed. 

Sam took Dean's arm and heaved himself out of the Impala.  He leaned against Dean, soaking up his warmth and gathering some strength, before starting to move again.  "Feel like my legs are made out of Jello." 

"Jello-legs, let's get you inside so they can firm up."  Dean chuckled and wrapped his arm around Sam's waist.  He took as much of Sam's weight as Sam would lean on him, while they walked into the house he had rented.  "I turned on the heat before I came to get you, Sammy.  The house should be comfortable." 

"Yeah.  Thanks, man.  What did Bobby say?  We just have to let this run its course?"  Sam tightened his arm around Dean, hoping for good news, but thinking it was unlikely. 

"Pretty much," Dean sighed and held Sam tight.  "He said that to move it along, we need to actually keep your fever higher... no making it go away."  Pausing in the front hall, Dean looked at Sam.  "Bed?  Or living room?" 

"Higher?  That could kill me, you know," Sam said softly.  "But if it makes it pass faster.  Living room."   

"Not higher than it is... I meant keep it up, instead of trying to break it."  Dean turned them into the living room and got Sam settled on the couch.  He took Sam's shoes off, tossing them to the side and covering him with a blanket. 

Sam leaned against the couch and heaved out a long sigh of relief.  "The dreams are not going away, Dean," he confessed.  "Last one I had, I- I was making you beg for mercy and just laughing."  He shut his eyes, a tear running out of the right.   

"Sammy, open your eyes."  Dean sat next to Sam's hips and curled his hands around his shoulders.  "Look at me." 

Sam opened his eyes and looked at Dean with watery, exhausted eyes.  "I'm so tired, Dean."  

"I know, but I want you to look at me."  Dean smiled gently.  "I'm okay, Sam.  I know your dreams seem real, and they hurt you, but open your eyes and see me.  See that I'm okay and that you've never done such things to me." 

"Dean... if I tried... you'd stop me, yeah?" Sam asked softly.  "You'd stop me no matter what it took?"   

"Of course, I would."  Dean said.  "I'd never just let you hurt me, Sam.  Don't worry about that.  Can you rest some?  Do you want food?" 

"Soup, if you have any," Sam said softly.  He leaned back against the couch and smiled at Dean.  "I love the way you make chicken soup, Dee.  I touch you, you stop me." 

Dean chuckled.  "Yeah, I have the makings for chicken soup.  Also for tomato soup, grilled cheese, hamburger helper, lasagna, chicken, steak.  You name it." 

"Feel like a little kid again.  You making my dinner and lunch.  Should have you tuck me into bed and tell me stories 'til I get to sleep."   

"I've already said you can have whatever you want, Sammy."  Dean chuckled and tucked the blanket around Sam.  "If that includes bedtime stories and tucking you in, then it does." 

"What about a kiss goodnight?" Sam asked, trying to tease, but coming out a bit uneasy.   

Dean chuckled and leaned in, pressing a kiss to Sam's forehead.  He lingered for a moment and then pulled back.  "Sleep, Sam, I'll be here to pull you out of the nightmares." 

Sam eyes widened and then a flood of tears poured from them.  He curled up into the couch, dashing away the wetness frantically.  "Never thought you would," he said.  "Shouldn't.  I'm tainted." 

"You're not tainted, Sammy."  Dean pulled his brother into his arms, cradling Sam to his chest and stroking his head on down his back.  Rocking like he used to when Sam was a toddler, Dean held on and petted him. 

As if needing to prove him wrong, to warn Dean about what he was, Sam turned his head and pressed a sucking kiss to his neck.   

Dean closed his eyes and held Sam tighter.  He didn't know if his brother was proving a point or reacting to his words, but Dean wasn't about to let him go. 

Sam blinked at the reaction and said, "Dean?"  He placed both hands on Dean's sides and pushed back a little, though it took most of his strength.  "You- you didn't mind my doing that?"  

Dean shook his head.  "No, Sammy, I didn't."  He held tight to Sam, but gave him whatever room he pushed for. 

Against his better judgment, Sam pressed his face into Dean's neck and just relaxed there.  Against his hot skin, Dean felt cool and good.  He tightened his arms around Dean and sighed.  "I dream about more than hurting you." 

"Yeah?" Dean's voice was hoarse, a soft croak at the feel of Sam's breath skating across his skin.  He pulled Sam against him again. 

Sam shuddered, wanting to tell him about the dreams, but unsure he could manage to words.  "About doing... that to you.  About... forcing you.  Again and again.  It's worse than all the other parts, Dean.  Cause it's based- based on the sick dreams I already have.  Means it all could happen." 

"You're never going to force me to do anything, Sam.  Not ever."  Dean rocked him, stroking his back and soothing Sam as gently as he could.  He thought he got what Sam was saying, but was afraid to admit his own desires.  "Why do you think your dreams are sick, Sam?" 

"It's not right, Dean," Sam said, fists bunched tight and shaking.  "You wouldn't- you like girls... all those girls."  He took a shaky breath and shook his head.  "Didn't used to be like that.  Started after I joined with you again.  Began to infect me like a slow stain in my heart, my mind.  Little things I could shake off at first, but they got bigger.  Never wanted to let you know.  You've done everything for me, Dee.  And this- this is how I repay you?" 

Dean closed his eyes and buried his nose in Sam's skin.  "Don't just like girls, Sam."  He'd fucked his share of guys, just kept it hidden from Sam and their dad.  "Nothing you say could disgust me, Sam.  Nothing you've said so far sickens me."  He'd felt the same way since his brother had come back into his life. 

Sam shook his head and let himself flop against the couch.  "Don't even know what I'm saying, Dee," he said, eyes closing again.  "Just rambling out of my head.  'M sorry." 

Dean kept one hand on his brother's chest.  "Why is it sick, Sam?"  He pleaded with his eyes wide for Sam to answer him. 

Sam stared at him in agony.  "You're my brother.  The only way I could have you is if I raped you!  The way I did-" His mouth closed on the rush of words, before he said slower and much more softly.  "The way I did in the dreams." 

Dean decided to take a risk, though he feared Sam might demand to be returned to the hospital.  Leaning forward, he curled one hand behind Sam's head and tugged him forward to brush their lips together softly, tentatively. 

Sam nearly fell of the couch in his surprise, even as he grabbed on to Dean for dear life.  "Dean, what?  I didn't- I didn't tell you that to make you act.  I mean- Dean?" 

"Shh, Sam."  Dean looked at his brother, letting his feelings rise to the surface.  He kept a tight lid on them all the time, so it took him a few minutes to let Sam see what was in his heart.  "Do you mean it, Sam?  Do you want me?" 

Sam struggled not to hyperventilate and pass out from that, as opposed to everything else.  He forced a slow nod, not understanding the look on Dean's face, but wanting this to be over.  Let Dean dump him like the garbage he was and leave, so Sam would never have a chance to hurt him.  Never see all that blood. 

"I want you, too."  Dean spoke the words slowly and carefully, so that Sam would know he meant them.  Leaning in again, he tugged Sam to meet his lips in another gentle kiss.

It was soft and loving and _DeanDeanDean_ , and Sam couldn’t resist what was being offered.  So, he kissed back, equally as gentle, but clutching Dean like a life line.  "Dean, you're not- tell me you're just doing this cause I want it," he begged, as they parted for air. 

"I'm not, Sam."  Dean smiled against Sam's lips, brushed them again and then pulled back to look him the eyes.  "If you can want it, so can I." 

Sam sobbed out a breath of relief and buried his head in Dean, his shoulders shaking.  "The Acheri twists the darkest parts of your life," he said.  "I’ve got a lot of darkness to twist." 

Dean sighed and tightened his arms around Sam, turning his lips to brush his brother's ear.  "This isn't part of the darkness, Sammy.  It's something we both want, so it can't be dark or wrong.  Promise."

Sam traced the edge of Dean's ear and face with careful fingertips, afraid this was some new and cruel twist in his dreams. That any moment it would fade away or turn into something violent and vile. Before those things could happen, he pressed his mouth to Dean's, asking him to lead.

Sighing, Dean tightened his hand in Sam's hair and took over the kiss. He slid his lips gently over Sam's before flicking his tongue at the seam, seeking entrance. When Sam opened to him, Dean groaned and pressed his tongue deep inside.

Sam kept the kiss going as long as he could, before his weakened lungs made him pull back for air. He leaned his forehead against Dean's, panting for breath. He twined one hand with one of Dean's, pulling them to rest over his chest. "Need to rest, Dean. Maybe I can sleep now."

"You want to sleep here? Or in bed?" Dean tightened their fingers, stroking his thumb over the back of Sam's hand with a gentle smile.

"Want to sleep with you," Sam murmured, a little ashamed of wanting and needing his brother so badly. "Maybe you can keep the dreams at bay."

"Food first or sleep?" Dean brought his free hand up and curled it around the side of Sam's face, stroking his thumb over the cheekbone.

Sam's stomach rumbled, and he smiled shyly at Dean. "A little food wouldn't go awry, Dee." He dropped his eyes, feeling ridiculously like a blushing bride, but unable to help himself in the current situation.

Dean tipped Sam's face up and kissed him, strong and sure. "I'll get some lunch made for us and then we can take a nap upstairs." He brushed another kiss over Sam's lips before sitting back.

Sam smiled and nodded. "And then we'll talk?" he asked with a slight flash of teasing dimple.

Groaning, Dean nodded and rolled his shoulders. "Yeah, okay, Sammy. If you really want." He untangled their hands and pushed to his feet. Dean smiled, ruffled his brother's hair and went into the kitchen to start the chicken soup.

Sam called, "You just want to start having sex then?" He felt the dark images teasing at the edge of his brain, but ignored them. Some of the darkness was gone, now that Dean had confessed... Sam flushed and shifted a little. 

"Have you ever known me not to want to just have sex, Sam?" Not that all he wanted from Sam was sex, but Dean was definitely an act first and discuss later -under duress- kind of guy. 

"With me?" Sam replied. "You care too much." He rubbed his eyes tiredly, still feverish and aching.

Dean tossed vegetables into a pot with chicken and then grabbed a couple of containers of broth. He drained them into the pot and turned the heat up. "Yeah, Sammy...we'll talk when we wake up."

Sam smiled and pulled himself to his feet slowly, walking into the kitchen. He sat down heavily at the table, wanting to watch Dean cook as he did when they were young. "How long we have this place?"

Stirring the pot, Dean smiled over at Sam. "You holding up okay, Sammy?" He tapped the spoon off and laid it aside before leaning against the counter. "Until we don't need it anymore."

"So, if I want to live here forever with you, that's all right then?" Sam asked, leaning his arms on the table and smiling at Dean.

"That might take a bit of work, Sam." Dean chuckled and crossed one ankle over the other. "The people who own the place might object to that."

"Damn. So much for my brilliant plan,” Sam said softly. He lowered his head to his arms and watched Dean with a slight smile. 

Dean looked over at the pot, stirring it before lifting the spoon to sip at the tepid broth. "What plan is that, Sammy?" 

"You know... the one where we live here happily ever after." Sam smiled lazily at Dean. "Having lots of sex." 

Shivering at the thought, Dean returned Sam's smile. His lips curled up slightly, eyes sliding mostly closed to bank the heat in them. 

"Soup almost ready, Dee? I want to get some sleep soon... with you." Sam rubbed at his infected ear, scowling. "Maybe take a few more pain killers."

"Yeah, not quite hot enough yet, Sammy. Give it five, and it should be ready." Dean moved to Sam's side and stroked his hand over Sam's head. "You want some water? I can get your pills for you too, though you have to wait until you've eaten to take them."

Sam pushed into the gentle hand and said, "Yeah, water'd be good. And the pills before I go to sleep. They knock me out anyway." He sat back enough to tangle a hand in Dean's shirt and pull him down for a kiss. 

Dean slid into the kiss, keeping himself far enough away from Sam that he could feel the drag of Sam pulling him in. Slowing the kiss, Dean pulled back and pressed his mouth to Sam's temple. "Let me get the water and soup."

"Thanks. You always do take good care of me, Dee," Sam said and reached up to nuzzle the underside of Dean's chin. 

Smiling, Dean rested his head on Sam's for a second before kissing him and then moving to get them both water. He put the glasses on the table, moved to the stove and served up a couple of bowls of soup, turning the heat off so the rest wouldn't scorch.

Sam took his soup and stuffed a large spoonful into his mouth. He smiled at the flavor, which spoke to him of love and home and Dean. "This is just as good as I remember. Why did you stop making me dinner?" 

"We rarely have kitchens to cook in." Dean didn't mention that he'd stopped because Sam had left. Without Sam to cook for, Dean had quickly fallen out of the habit of doing anything more than diner food and the occasional round of sandwiches.

"We could get nicer motel rooms with kitchenettes," Sam said. "I could find some way to repay you for the food." He attempted a salacious look, but figured he came off as sleepy and silly.

Dean chuckled, tangled his legs with Sam's under the table and spooned some soup into his mouth. "We can get some places with kitchens, Sam. I'll cook for you again... though, you may not enjoy it all the way you did when you were a kid."

"Nothing beats a big bowl of mac 'n cheese, Dean, even from a microwave. Especially with ketchup in the sauce." Sam ate slowly, his stomach fragile, but his hunger an encouraging sign that the Acheri’s touch was wearing off. 

Shuddering, Dean shook his head at Sam. "I don’t know how you discovered that ketchup thing, but God, is that gross. You can be sure there'll be bowls of mac 'n cheese in the future, if you want them." He took a sip of water, wishing he had beer instead, but with Sam sick, Dean wasn't going to be drinking.

"You going to wear little miniskirts for me, too, Dean? So I can come home to dinner with a proper wifey? You have good enough legs." Sam braced himself for retaliation. 

The spoon stopped halfway to Dean's mouth, and he scowled at Sam. "Don't even think about that coming true, Sam. Any cracks about it means you lose a night of homemade dinner." Not that Dean could ever stick to that threat, not with Sam using the big eyes against him.

Sam snickered, which morphed into a cough that took several moments to pass. He was pleased by the lack of blood, though. "Spoilsport," he said, going back to his soup. He shut his eyes and let himself enjoy the flavorful broth without further distraction.  
~~~~~~

Dean sighed when he slowly started toward consciousness.  He stretched his muscles, or tried to and frowned when he realized he was pinned down. Dean opened his eyes to see Sam sprawled over half the bed, including much of Dean.  The fever heating his brother's skin was what woke him, and Dean was amazed at the light coming in the window.  They had slept all through the evening and into morning.  He stroked his hand over Sam's forehead, pleased to find the fever was lower, compared to the day before.

Sam mumbled and pushed against the hand on his forehead.  He shifted around a little and then settled again, still covering Dean.

Chuckling softly, Dean nudged Sam to get him to move to the side.  The added heat, plus his full bladder, made him need to get up.  "Move over, Sammy.  Just a bit."  He nudged again, hoping his brother would actually shift some.

Sam groaned, and his eyes fluttered open to look at Dean.  Suddenly, his smile blossomed, and he wrapped both arms around Dean like a monkey.  "Mine," he mumbled.

Dean groaned.  "Yeah, Sam, I'm yours, but if you don't let me go to the bathroom, I'm gonna wet the bed."  He nuzzled into Sam's head and pressed a kiss to his temple, hoping that his brother would let go fast.

Sam opened both eyes and grumbled, "Not allowed," and then released Dean and rolled over again.  He began to breathe softly in the rhythm of sleep almost immediately.

Sighing in relief, Dean climbed out of the bed and hauled his ass into the bathroom.  He leaned with one hand on the wall over the toilet and groaned in relief when he was finally able to relieve himself.  Dean was amazed he'd managed to sleep through the night, but figured his exhaustion must have hit him harder than he'd realized.  Cleaning up, he went back into the bedroom and sat on the bed in front of Sam, stroking his hair back.  "Hey Sammy, you hungry?"

Sam opened an eye reluctantly and said, "Why you up there?  Want you in bed with me." 

"I need food, Sam."  Dean stroked his head gently, pushing the damp strands back from his face.  "You hungry for anything?"

Sam smiled, wrapped his arms around Dean's neck and used his weight to pull Dean into a kiss.  He opened his mouth to encourage Dean's tongue to take over. 

Dean gave Sam what he wanted, tasting his brother with his lips. "Hmmm, not quite the same as breakfast though, Sammy." He leaned back slightly, hands stroking down Sam's arms. "What do you want to eat?"

Sam sighed and smiled up at Dean. "What are my choices?" he asked in a husky voice. He released Dean and relaxed back into the pillows, having slept well with Dean there to chase away the nightmares.

"We have cereal, eggs, and oatmeal." Dean smiled at Sam, stroking down his arms. "Or, I can make you blueberry pancakes."

"You have to ask, Dee?" Sam asked, running a hand down his arm and smiling up at Dean. "Fresh syrup?" 

Scoffing at Sam, Dean tickled him gently. "What do you think?" He grinned broadly and leaned down to brush a kiss over his lips. "Give me twenty minutes and then come down."

"I guess I should shower. I stink." Sam sighed and relaxed back into the mattress. "I feel better. Ear hurts a bit, but..." He smiled and traced Dean's cheek with a finger. "You telling me... drove everything else away."

Dean smiled, blushing slightly. "That's all you needed? Wish I'd known that before I took you to the hospital in a panic." He leaned down for another kiss. "You going to be okay in the shower?"

"I needed rest, Dean. Rest not bothered by the nightmares of me ra- raping you." Sam forced the word out and pulled on Dean's lower lip, before kissing him again.

"Shhhh, when we're together, Sam, the last thing it will be is rape." Dean stroked the side of Sam's face, fingers skating over his cheekbone. "You going to be okay showering alone?"

"Yeah. Need to lean on a lot of walls, but I'll manage." Sam smiled and slowly sat up, groaning as his achy body protested. "Can I have a back rub later?"

Dean nodded. "Yes, Sammy, you can have a backrub." He smiled and stroked his arm. "Do you want help in the shower or for me to have the pancakes ready for you?"

"Pancakes. Then back rub. Then... I can cuddle with you all day. Being chick flicky." Sam smiled at Dean sweetly.

Groaning, Dean leaned in for another kiss and then stood from the bed. "I'll get you into the bathroom and then make your pancakes. See you downstairs?" Dean held his hand out for Sam's.

Sam took Dean's hand and allowed himself to be helped up. He swayed on his feet for a moment and then smiled. "I'm all right. Go make my breakfast, wench."

Dean reached out and smacked Sam on the ass. "You'll make your own, if you keep calling me names, Sammy." He grinned when he said it and followed Sam to the bathroom before he'd head downstairs.

Sam smiled and winked at Dean. "I'll see you downstairs." He went to take his warm shower gratefully.

Dean took his time moving around the kitchen. When Sam got into his shower, he could be in there for hours, and Dean wasn't about to let his pancakes get cold. Instead, Dean made up the batter, left it to sit on the counter, poured two large glasses of milk and made coffee. 

Sam warmed himself and washed off the stench of illness. He felt a million times better, if weak, and climbed out quickly only because of the promise of pancakes. And Dean. He dried and dressed himself in low clinging sweats and his hoodie. Walking downstairs, he found Dean making coffee. Moving quietly, he walked up to his brother, wrapped his arms lightly around his waist and pressed a kiss to his nape. "Dean."

Dean shivered at Sam's touch, his head tipping against his brother's before he turned to press a kiss to Sam's temple. "Sammy. You hungry still? The first batch of pancakes won't take five minutes."

"Yeah, I'm hungry. For pancakes, even." Sam slid a hand under Dean's shirt and tickled his waist.

"Sammy!" Dean laughed and danced out of Sam's grip. "Behave or no pancakes. There's milk on the table, and the coffee'll be done in a minute." He shot his brother a fond smile and then turned his full attention on the stove. The griddle was big enough that he could make three pancakes at once, so he poured three out and then stepped to the side to pour coffee for himself.

Sam settled at the kitchen table, watching Dean with a big smile and soft eyes. He fiddled with his silverware, wanting his hands on his brother. "How long?" he asked.

"Another minute," Dean murmured, flipping the pancakes with a grin and happy sigh at the color. He'd not made pancakes in a long time, but it was good to know he still had the knack. "You want coffee too?"

"Hot chocolate," Sam said, figuring his brother would have some on hand. 

"Of course you want hot chocolate." Dean smiled over his shoulder at Sam, flipped the three pancakes onto a plate and then delivered them to Sam. He turned the microwave on for twenty seconds to heat up the syrup and turned to grab the milk, cocoa and another pan.

"Look at you, Dean. Never knew cooking could be sexy." Sam watched Dean's ass move in his jeans as he worked about the kitchen. 

Dean looked over his shoulder, noted the location of Sam's gaze and grinned. "Eat your pancakes, Sammy. The cocoa's coming." He stirred the cocoa and milk together in the pan, heating it slowly and evenly. When Dean saw that Sam was down to his last pancake, he ladled three more onto the griddle and then served up the hot chocolate. "More pancakes, Sam?"

"Please. These pancakes are awesome. You haven't lost your touch." Sam forked the last piece into his mouth and smiled at Dean. "I want a kiss, too."

Taking the hot chocolate to the table, Dean leaned down, curled his hand behind Sam's head and kissed him thoroughly. Now that he was allowed to do it, he wanted to take advantage of every single moment. He pulled away and went to flip the pancakes.

Sam dug into another pancake after pouring more syrup over them.  "Come sit down and join me, Dean.  I want to talk to you."  He grinned and gestured to the seat across from him.

"Just gotta make some for myself, Sam."  Dean grinned at him and went back to the stove to make himself a stack of pancakes.  He poured out the batter and then turned to watch his brother while it sizzled and bubbled beside him.  "You're looking much better today - the sleep seems to have helped."

"Sleep always helps you feel better, Dean.  Especially good sleep.  I don't get much of that as a general rule."  Sam stretched and sighed.  "Still feel pretty weak, though.  Probably spend the day crashed on the couch."  He widened his eyes at Dean in a pleading gesture.

Dean flipped the pancakes onto a plate and then joined his brother at the table.  He hooked an ankle around the leg of his chair and started in on his breakfast.  "I'll crash out with you for a bit, Sammy, but I need to do some stuff with the car and some laundry."  Looking up, Dean saw the pleading eyes and groaned.  If Sam kept that up, all of Dean's good intentions would go right out the window.

The groan brightened Sam's smile, and he widened his eyes more.  "Can't some of that wait, Dean?  I just want to spend the day crashed out with you.  Please."  He resisted the ridiculous urge to flutter his eyelashes, though he thought Dean might enjoy it.

"Some of it can wait, Sam."  Dean turned his gaze to his pancakes and coffee, the only way to get away from Sam's puppy eyes.  He'd never been able to resist the plea in them. 

"Dee."  Sam poked Dean with his toe and then stroked his ankle playfully.  "Are you trying to avoid me?"  There was laughter in his voice, as he knew Dean wanted to avoid getting tangled in his gaze.

Dean flipped his eyes up, mock glaring at Sam.  "No fair using the eyes on me, Sammy.  I've already agreed to lounge around with you."  He smiled, lopsided, before going back to his breakfast.

Sam grinned back and polished off his second stack of pancakes.  He leaned back, pleasantly full, and allowed himself to drift for a few moments.  "I think I'll lumber over to the sofa now," he said, but made no effort to move.

"I'll be in soon as I clean up."  Of course, Dean still had to finish his pancakes, and maybe a second cup of coffee.  Sam looked content, full and maybe even a bit better than he had when he first woke up. 

Sam coughed and leaned forward to facilitate clearing any remaining crap out of his throat.  He was pleased that only a trickle of blood escape, as he wiped it away with the napkin.  "An ear infection.  That Acheri was inventive."  He leaned back again, watching Dean.

"That Acheri was a bitch.  I still don't like the blood, Sam."  

"The doctors said it was just a reaction to the infection.  Nothing serious.  It should go away as the infection clears up."  Sam nudged Dean gently.  "Makes kissing suck, though."

Dean made a face and nodded.  "Yeah, no coughing while you kiss me."  Swiping his last bite of pancake through the syrup, he stuffed it in his mouth with a soft moan. "You should go rest, Sammy.  I won't be long."

"I'm comfortable," Sam said.  "And after the last few days, I'm reluctant to give that up... especially since it felt like months to me, not just days.  That's what still freaks me out now and then.  It's only been a few days since the Acheri attacked, but it still seems so distant.  Even with you here, alive and well."

Pushing back from the table, Dean moved to Sam's side and wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders.  "There's nothing I can do to change what she made you see, except show you that I'm here, I'm whole and I want you."  Dean tipped Sam's face up and brushed soft kisses over his lips.

Sam kissed back just as lightly, wanting Dean closer, but not pushing him.  He reached up to tangle fists in Dean's shirt, tugging as they kissed.  "Want you, too."

"Good."  Dean brushed another kiss over Sam's lips and then pulled back.  "Won't take me a few minutes."  He moved to grab their plates, put them in the dish washer and then set about cleaning everything up.  "So, what do you want to talk about, Sam?"  Like yanking a band-aid off fast, Dean figured if they talked now, he could avoid it from there on out.

Sam blinked at his brother.  "Whoa.  Way to come out of left field, Dee.  There's a lot of stuff I want to talk about.  But I guess... us having sex rates a special conversation?"

Dean shrugged.  "You said you wanted to talk... and you wanted to talk before we had sex, so talk."  He tossed a grin at Sam and started to make more hot chocolate for them both.  

"Wow, you really can be a jackass," Sam said, settling more comfortably.  "I guess I'll start with why you're not panicking about the fact that we're going to have a relationship, even if it is something we both want."

Stiffening, Dean stirred the cocoa and thought about it.  He turned and leaned against the counter.  "My entire life has been about you, Sam.  From Mom's pregnancy, when I used to talk to you, to the day Dad put you in my arms and then again when I picked you up at Stanford.  Having a relationship with you is something I've wanted since you came back and... well, I'm not going to freak because you feel the same way."  

"You talked to me in mom's womb?" Sam asked, dimples breaking out in full force. 

"I used to curl up across her lap with my ear pressed to her stomach and talk to you at night before bed. She was supposed to be putting me down, but I wouldn't sleep until I'd told you all about the stuff we were gonna do when you were born." Dean chuckled and looked out the window before stirring the cocoa and pouring it into two mugs.

The image of Dean with his ear pressed to Mary's belly, talking to his unborn self, made Sam smile. He considered the rest of Dean's answer for a long time.  "You've always been so adamant about protecting me, at the cost of everything else.  I thought you might be afraid of this. What if it doesn't work out?"

"I wouldn't start this if I thought it wouldn't last. If you think that might be a problem, then we stop before it goes any further." Dean's eyes were serious, staring straight into Sam's.

"I think we'll last, if you do, Dean. There's no problem with my being a romantic lover?" Sam asked. 

"Duuuude, so long as you don't make me indulge too often, we'll be fine." Dean nudged Sam with his foot. "C’mon, let's go sit in the living room." Carrying the two mugs, Dean led Sam to the couch.

Sam trailed after Dean, flopping heavily at the end of the couch. He settled more comfortably and relaxed. "I want to take more breaks. Stay in nicer places. We deserve a nicer life, Dee."

"What about all those people, Sam?" Dean stopped, took a deep breath and nodded. He could do this for Sam, for them. His brother was right that they needed to take better care of themselves. "We'll need to find way to fund that, Sam."

"We'll still hunt, Dee, but we don't have to do it all the time. We're not getting younger, and this'll get harder all the time." Sam paused and considered the money angle. "I know. We'll have to work that out. But it's worth it."

Dean nodded, knowing that Sam was right, though their dad certainly hunted to a much older age. "Yeah, Sammy, we can do that."

Sam grinned and reached out for Dean. "Come here, Dee. You deserve a reward for being such a good sport."

Arching an eyebrow at Sam, Dean put his cocoa on the coffee table and leaned closer to Sam. "A reward? What am I... a puppy?"

Sam shrugged and leaned back against the couch. "If you don't want anything of me, Dee." He smiled sweetly. "And nobody else in our lives."

"I didn't say that, Sam." Dean reached out and pulled Sam to him. “Just... I don't need a reward from you, just need you to be with me, okay?"

"I'm with you," Sam said, placing his hands on Dean's arms. "Haven't gone anywhere, Dee. But I meant what I said about nobody else." 

Dean shook his head. "No one else, but I hadn't gotten to that yet." He smiled and curled one arm around Sam's shoulders. "Why don't you relax this way?"

Sam slid to lean against Dean, head resting on his shoulder.  He snuggled close and let his eyes drift shut, relaxing completely.  "What had you gotten to?" he asked with a little yawn.

"I was still trying to get you to acknowledge that I don't want you giving me 'presents' like that.  It feels like you don't think I can just be with you, that I need to have incentive."  Dean stroked Sam's arm, curling his arm protectively around him.

"That wasn't what I meant at all," Sam said, relaxing against Dean.  He traced Dean's chest and smiled contentedly.  "Fine time for me to make jokes, I guess."  He coughed a few times, but then settled again.  "Are you a top?"

"I've been both.  Depends on my mood."  Dean settled into the arm of the couch with a sigh, smiling at Sam and kissing his head softly.

"A switch.  I woulda figured you for a toppy bastard," Sam said with a slight smirk.  "Pictured us as two clashing alpha males."  His hand trailed down and settled on Dean's right thigh.

"Yeah, well... I'm sure there'll be some days we’ll clash.  It's inevitable."  Dean closed his eyes and just held Sam.  

"We're just built that way," Sam agreed, lazily stroking Dean's thigh.  "I guess we'll have to hide this from anyone who knows us... that really sucks.  But I want to be able to tell the rest of the world.  Check-in as a couple, hold hands, all those kinds of things."

Dean chuckled.  "Most people already think we are.  The only thing we have to remember is that some places might not be tolerant... so, we'll have to be aware of that."  He really had no problem with people knowing they were a couple... now that they _were_ a couple.

Sam laughed, acknowledging that they got a lot of interesting looks and comments when they went places together.  "I guess we've covered most of the important questions."  He tilted Dean's head to look at him and said, "I love you, Dean."

"I love you, too, Sam."  Dean leaned in and pressed their mouths together gently, sliding back and forth over Sam's lips while holding him close.

Sam opened his mouth and slicked his tongue over Dean's lips, lazy and playful, encouraging Dean to join him.  His arms slid up to wrap around the back of Dean's head and his neck, holding him in place.  

Dean returned Sam's kiss before pulling back and pressing their foreheads together.  "Who'd have thought it'd be this easy?"  He grinned, before nuzzling Sam's ear.

"I wish I thought it would be easy, Dean.  We hunt the supernatural for a living.  We're about to enter a relationship which is considered, at best, against the law and at worst, a mortal sin.  Welcome to the world of the Winchesters."  Sam pulled him back into an extended kiss.

Sinking into the kiss, Dean gave himself over to it until Sam pulled back for a breath of air.  "When have we ever cared what other people think?"  He shrugged and turned Sam so his back was angled more toward Dean.  "You need to rest, Sammy.  Do you want to move back to the bed so you can sleep?"

"I'm comfortable here, Dean," Sam said, not wanting to move.  "And this is more restful than anything I have done in a long time."  He lifted his hands to run over the lines of Dean's face, learning each plane by touch.

"You don't seem to be getting much rest. Not with the way you're so occupied with me." Dean grinned, all wide innocence,but lust shone from his eyes.

"This isn't exactly heavy exercise," Sam said. "I'm lying here in your arms, just relaxing. Perfectly restful." He smiled back, amused by the innocence countered by lust.

Dean curled his arm around Sam and snugged him tighter to Dean's body. "Yeah, but you need more sleep, and you're not falling asleep with me here." He slowly stroked his hand over Sam's stomach.

Sam rumbled under the gentle stroking, pushing against the hand. "Sleep can wait, Dean. Want to be here with you."  
"Here, sit forward for a minute." Dean untangled himself from Sam and propped him up until he was certain Sam was sitting under his own steam.

Sam sat up with a confused look at Dean. "What's up, Dean?"

Stretching one leg out along the back of the couch, Dean settled with his back against the arm and half wedged into the corner. He tugged Sam against his chest and then swung his other leg onto the couch. "If we're staying here for any length of time, I'm just getting comfy."

Sam relaxed against Dean and blew out a long, drawn out sigh. "So, you're saying you weren't comfortable with me in your arms?"

"My back was starting to hurt from not being supported, Sam." Dean smiled at him, blew a light raspberry on his throat and then nibbled his way to Sam's ear. "I wanted to really hold you, to feel your whole body resting against mine."

"Mmm, this is pretty comfortable,” Sam admitted, head rolling to one side to let Dean explore. "And I wouldn't want you to hurt your widdle back."

"Sam, not exactly fostering a cozy mood here." Dean stroked his hands over Sam's chest and abs, a lazy stroll of touch over parts of his brother he'd only felt when stitching a wound or in the midst of a wrestling match.

Sam chuckled. "I'm lying here pliant and giving, Dean. What more do you want of me?"

Dean bit his lip, not sure he wanted to give Sam, his brother, any more ammunition. But if they were truly going to transition into lovers then Sam was going to have to give on some things, too. "Leave off with the teasing, Sam. There's too much of that wrapped up in my brother."

Sam twisted his head a little to look at Dean seriously. "I am your brother, Dean. And you're mine. That's part and parcel with this relationship and more important than the rest. If that weirds you out, then we shouldn't be lovers."

"It doesn't weird me out, but it does reduce some of the sexiness. Besides, like we said before, we both know where to poke each other for the best -or worst- reaction to things." Dean didn't really know how to explain it any better than that.

Sam shrugged and settled back again. "Yeah, all right, Dean, I'll try."

"That's all we can do." Dean nuzzled Sam's ear, nudging down so he could slide his lips along the strong jaw. "You feel good right here in my arms, Sam."

It's where I belong, Dean.  You became my protector a long time ago.  That's never going to change."  Sam huffed out a soft breath, warm and at ease.

"True, Sam."  Dean slowed his explorations and curled around Sam, soaking in the heat of them pressed together, tinged by the remnants of Sam's fever.  

Sam snuggled so his head rested just under Dean's chin.  He rubbed his hair against the rasp of stubble and hummed under his breath.  "Never thought you'd hold me like this again," he murmured.  "Got a little big for it."

  Dean laughed, head tipping back before he brought it back down to rub his chin against Sam's hair.  "You sure did, Sammy.  There was a time when you didn't even want a hug from me anymore, never mind sitting together like this."

  "Me?  How about you, mister teenage mcsexypants?  You wanted nothing to do with your dorky little brother.  Especially at 15 and 16."  Sam shook his head and sighed. 

   "That's because you were a pest at eleven and twelve."  Dean chuckled.  "But you stopped wanting to curl up on the couch with me when you were like nine."

  "Well... dad had a lot to do with that," Sam admitted reluctantly.  "Sat me down one day and had a talk about my needing to grow up and not make you soft."  

Dean blinked and tilted Sam's head to the side.  "Really?"  He scowled, thinking of how hurt he'd been when Sammy hadn't wanted to continue their brotherly games and rituals, including the snuggling.  

Sam nodded and sighed.  "I didn't want to make you soft, get you hurt.  Later, when I understood what he had done, it just fed into how angry I always was at dad."  He pressed a kiss to Dean's jaw.  

Turning his head, Dean caught Sam's lips with his own, pressing briefly against them and then resting his cheek on his brother's head.  "It never would have made me soft, Sammy.  I missed that connection with you... it’s one of the reasons I started getting so many girlfriends."

  "I didn't really understand that at nine, Dean.  And by the time I did, you had a lot of girlfriends, Dad was harder on me than ever, and I was pissed off all the time.  The situation didn't really lend itself to trying to getting close again."  Sam sighed and lifted a hand to trace Dean's cheek.  "Didn't figure you wanted me around anyway."

  "And I didn't understand you anymore, not when you got so angry and hurt all the time."  Dean sighed, leaning into Sam's touch and closing his eyes.  "I always wanted you around, Sam.  Always."  

"I know that now."  Sam cupped the side of Dean's face in his big hand.  "Just have to make up for it now.  Never let you feel alone again."

  Dean rubbed right into Sam's hand, a soft huff of breath escaping when Sam stroked behind his ear.  "And we will, Sammy.  We will."  
~~~~~~~

Sam woke up a few days later, breathed in deeply and realized he felt good. In fact, he felt completely well. Three days of unbroken sleep and lounging around the house with Dean, doing nothing more strenuous then watching TV, had finally driven away the last of the Atheri’s infection. Smiling, he pushed back against Dean, stretching as he did. "Dean." 

Dean mumbled in his sleep, his body adjusting to Sam's movements as if they'd slept together everyday of the last twenty odd years. "What's up Sammy?" he asked, voice heavy with sleep.

"I feel good, Dean," Sam said, pushing back a little more forcefully. "I think the infection is gone." He put a hand over one of Dean's and stroked his fingers one at a time.

"Yeah?" Dean's brain wasn't entirely awake yet, but the way Sam petted his fingers made him hum in pleasure. He rocked his hips into Sam's and sighed.

"You know what that means?" Sam asked, voice and movements teasing. He pressed back against Dean's cock rhythmically with his ass, wanting his brother fully aroused before he even woke up.

Dean made a negative sound with his throat, eyes still closed, though his body responded to Sam's. He rolled his hips forward, groaning slightly and nuzzling into the hair at the nape of Sam's neck.

Sam reached back and stroked up and down Dean's thigh and ass. "You can make love to me, Dean." He wanted to feel Dean inside him, blasting away the last of his dreams with lovely, warm reality.

"Mmmmhmmmm." Dean hummed his agreement, still not entirely awake or aware of what Sam meant. He rocked his hips forward with a groan, body already pushing toward pleasure.

Sam smiled and reached around to press his hand into Dean's cock, squeezing and massaging the growing bulge. "Can't wait to feel you deep inside me."

The combination of Sam's words and touch brought Dean completely out of his sleep. His cock hardened almost immediately, and he groaned, dropping his forehead to Sam's nape. "Fuck, Sammy."

"That's the idea," Sam said, turning toward Dean to find his mouth. "Kiss me, Dean?"

Dean surged in to kiss Sam, long and hard. His arm around Sam's waist tightened as he drew his brother's body back against his own. Taking his time, Dean savored every bit of the kiss.

Sam enjoyed Dean's kiss, but finally pulled away with a long sigh. "Want you to undress me, Dean. Want to feel you all over me."

"Are you sure, Sammy?" Dean dropped his head to Sam's shoulder and pressed a kiss there. "I mean completely certain."

"You doubt me, Dean?" Sam said.  He stroked Dean's hair, pushing up into the soft kiss.  "I want to feel you inside me, Dean.  Want that with you."

"Sam," Dean groaned.  He brushed his lips over Sam's and then pulled back.  "Yeah, okay."  Smiling, Dean pushed Sam forward slightly to roll him onto his back, so he could lean up and over Sam for a deeper kiss.

Sam rolled willingly onto his back and wrapped his arms tightly around Dean, pulling him into the kiss.  "Wipe away everything but you, Dean.  Make me yours, so nobody else can touch me."

"No one else ever, Sam.  You're mine."  Dean brushed their lips together in another kiss and then delved deeper.  Finally, he pulled back and shifted over Sam.  Wedging his hips between Sam's thighs, Dean slid down until he could lift the hem of Sam's shirt and press kisses to his flat stomach.

Sam spread his legs so Dean fit more comfortably between them.  He smiled at the ticklish sensation of Dean's mouth on his stomach, even as his cock hardened against Dean.  "No one else ever, Dean.  Haven't been all that many anyway."

That thought saddened Dean, but it also thrilled him that Sam wouldn't know anyone else again.  He pushed Sam's shirt up, baring the expanse of his chest, and rucked it up underneath his arms so Dean could lean down to taste Sam's nipples.

Sam moaned loudly, glad for their privacy, as Dean sampled his nipples.  He had never found that particularly exciting before, but having Dean touching him sensitized him everywhere.  "Fuck.  Almost wish there were more there for you to work with."   

Dean laughed.  "Oh, Sammy, believe me, there's more than enough here."  Biting down lightly, Dean grinned when Sam arched hard off the bed.  He swiped his tongue over the sting before moving on to the other nipple and repeating the entire process.

Sam pulled Dean up for a heated kiss, wanting to get him away from his mauled nipples for a moment.  "You're all over me, Dean," he said, nibbling his lower lip.  "Like a starving man offered a taste of ambrosia."

Groaning, Dean looked at Sam.  "Ok, dude, a little too girly there."  He winked and pressed a kiss to Sam's lips.  "But I've wanted you awhile now, which means I'm going to take my time."  Dean slid back down Sam's body and sucked at his right nipple again.

Sam smacked the back of Dean's head lightly and then growled when he began to attack a nipple again.  "Are you trying to gnaw them off?" he demanded, pushing him up again.

"Do you not like it?"  Dean pulled back, releasing Sam and sitting up on his knees.  From Sam's responses, he'd thought his brother was enjoying everything, but if not, then Dean'd back off and let Sam tell him what he wanted.

"They're getting a little raw," Sam said with a slightly apologetic look.  "I'm not used to such attention."  He followed Dean up, leaning his forehead against Dean's shoulder and relaxing.

Dean wrapped his arms around Sam, holding him in close.  They had so much to learn about each other.  It was a bit daunting, so Dean just held Sam, pressing kisses to the side of his throat.

Sam enjoyed the feeling of being held, of being protected from the world by his big brother.  He tilted his head when Dean kissed just below his cheek and murmured, "I'm sorry for slowing this down, Dean.  Didn't mean to."

"I don't know what you want, Sam. You wanted us to have sex but when I tried, you pushed me away. You have to lead from here on out." Dean wasn't used to anyone questioning the way he touched them.

Sam pulled away from Dean, surprised by the answer. He tugged up his legs and wrapped his arms around his knees. "That's not what I meant." He rested his chin on top of one knee and stared at the far wall, wondering if he had pushed Dean away. Maybe he wasn't ready for this after all.

"What did you mean, Sam?" Dean felt oddly bare, even with his boxers on. He sat back and brought his legs around front, crossing them.

"My nipple was a little raw, that's all. I didn't mean you were doing anything wrong." Sam shrugged and then offered a sad smile at Dean. "I guess I'm not ready yet. Maybe I'll get a shower."

"Don't walk away, Sam." Dean sighed and looked down at his hands. Much as he hated talking things to death, if Sam left now, they'd never fix this. "Talk to me. Tell me what's going on in your brain."

"I don't know," Sam said, hanging his head. "I thought I was ready, but you think I'm pushing you away. Maybe I'm not over the nightmares." He lifted his eyes back to Dean's. 

"Why don't you want to lead? I want you to guide me, Sam. Tell me; show me what feels good to you." Dean smiled back, the corner of his mouth tilting up to match Sam's. He reached out and put his hand on Sam's arm.

Sam rolled slowly to his knees and reached out to trace Dean's face. He shut his eyes and caressed the features of the person he had always loved best. Reopening his eyes, he studied Dean and tried to gauge his mood. 

Dean sat still, watching Sam and waiting for his next move. He wanted his brother, but only if Sam was truly ready for him, for this. The last thing Dean wanted was for Sam to freak out because they moved into the physical aspects too quickly.

Sam smiled and pressed a mouth over Dean's eyelids, one at a time. Curiously, he tasted the corner of each eye with his tongue. He slid his lips down Dean's right cheek and then leaned back, smiling. "What are you thinking?"

Chuckling harshly, Dean looked at Sam and grinned wryly. "That I want you to be comfortable and not scare you off."

"It's not you I'm scared of, Dean, it's me." Sam touched his cheek and smiled, stroking the soft skin. "That's why I wanted you to lead."

"Yeah, but that didn't work out so well." Dean closed his eyes and leaned into Sam's touch. He flicked them open again on a soft sigh. "Show me, Sammy. Touch me the way you want." Taking Sam's hands in his, he made sure Sam was looking into his eyes. "I promise I won't let you do anything I don't want."

"It would have worked," Sam said, but he continued to explore Dean's face with gentle fingers. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Dean's, tongue tracing his bottom lip. 

Dean opened to Sam, lips parting and tongue flicking out gently to meet his. Letting his eyes slide closed, Dean gave himself over to the gentle explorations.

Sam slid a hand into Dean's hair and the other around his back, to draw himself further into the kiss. He murmured soft words of affection into his mouth. 

Returning Sam's pleasure, Dean sighed softly and twisted into his brother's kiss. He brought both hands up to cling to Sam so he could just sink into the sensations.

Sam gently eased back, pulling Dean down on top of him. He spread his legs and cupped Dean between them. "Dean." He pushed up against Dean gently.

Dean rocked into Sam, slow and steady, his body moving into the pressure. "Sam," he breathed out, leaning in to brush a soft kiss over Sam's lips.

"This better, Dean?" Sam asked in a soft voice, sliding his hands back to cup Dean's ass.  He wanted this to work so badly.  Another misstep, and he feared everything might end.

"Yeah, Sammy, much better." Dean rocked into Sam's hips, smiling at the feel of his brother's huge hands cupping around him.

Raising his hands to the back of Dean's head, Sam kissed him slow and long, lips parted for Dean's tongue. Massaging deep into Dean's scalp, he hummed his contentment into the kiss. His legs spread further, pushing up more into Dean.

Dean snugged his hips to Sam's, rolling them together and pushing into Sam. He kissed Sam hard and steady, flicking his tongue at the seam of Sam's lips before nipping at the lower one.

Moaning, Sam rolled back his head and exposed his throat to Dean in quiet supplication. He still wanted Dean to lead, even to dominate, and hoped he would. "Please, Dean. Please."

Nuzzling under Sam's chin, he nibbled along the strong length before nipping at Sam's ear. "I got ya, Sammy." He licked a stripe up Sam's throat, from the base of his throat to his ear and then pulled back. 

"Yeah, Dean, please. Need that. Need your strength." Sam wrapped his legs around Dean's hips and tugged him down. "Want you to take me, Dean."

"I will, Sam. Gonna do it at my own pace, though. Okay?" Dean groaned and rocked into Sam's hips, rubbing and grinding their cocks together. He stroked from Sam's hip down to his knee. Pulling it higher up, Dean pressed into Sam again and again.

Sam nodded and murmured, "Whatever you want, Dean." He slid his hands down Dean's sides, grateful his brother had retaken control. His leg tightened further on Dean's back, determined to keep himself where Dean wanted.

"Kiss me, Sam. I want you to kiss me and hold on to me." Dean rocked their bodies together, holding himself slightly above Sam and forcing his brother to lift up to reach him. 

Sam obeyed without hesitation, pulling himself up enough to fuse their mouths together. He clutched Dean's shoulders and mauled him passionately with his lips and tongue. His own hips picked up the pace of Dean's, bringing their erections into almost constant contact. "Please, Dean, fuck me."

"Almost, Sam," Dean groaned when he broke the kiss. He slid down slightly and bit at Sam's collarbone. "You gonna let me prep you, right?"

"Hmm? Why wouldn't I?" Sam asked, eyes wide and dark with lust and need. "You don't have to."

Dean sighed and arched up to kiss Sam. "That's why." He shook his head slightly and then nipped Sam’s lower lip. "I'm not going to fuck you without lube, Sam. Stay here." He pulled back so he could retrieve the lubricant.

"Not going anywhere," Sam said happily, flopping back on the bed. He reached down to yank off his boxers and then tossed away his shirt, so he would be ready for Dean.

Searching out his bottle, Dean took a few deep breaths and turned back. He groaned at the sight of Sam spread wantonly across the mattress. He stroked his cock a few times before he crawled back onto the bed. "Open your legs for me, Sam."

Sam looked down at his gaping legs and then attempted to widen them more, nearly pulling them out from his hips.  "There?"

"Yeah," Dean grinned and flicked open the cap.  He spread some lube on his fingers and reached down with one to slide in the crease and tease at Sam's opening.  "I know you want to get right to this, Sam, but I'm not going to be rough this time.  You need to tell me if it's too much, if it hurts."  When he was finished, Dean pressed the tip of his finger inside Sam and wriggled it slightly.

Sam sighed and pushed against the finger, eager to feel it deep within his ass.  "You'd never seriously be rough with me, Dean," he said on a sigh.  "Might play with the idea, but never hurt me.  Even if I begged."

Dean couldn't argue with that, not that he expected Sam to truly want to be hurt.  He slid his finger deeper, in and out, until he felt Sam relax enough for him to slide two fingers inside.  The catch and drag when he slid two in made Dean groan, and he leaned down, sucking at Sam's hip and raising a slight mark there while spreading and scissoring his two fingers.

Sam murmured softly at the love bite and pushed against Dean's fingers.  "Yeah, mark me up, Dean.  Want that."  He wantonly began to stroke his own cock with a slow, firm hand, wanting Dean to watch.

Turning his head back to Sam's hip, Dean sucked a livid mark into the tender skin, while easing three fingers inside Sam's body.  He turned to watch Sam stroking himself, groaning at the way his cock slid through the long fingers and his hips hitched into the competing sensations.

Sam hissed a little at the combination of pain and pleasure.  He pushed hard into the fingers, driving them so deep he got to the base of each.  His cock spurted a long trail of precome in response, and he began to drive himself hard and fast on Dean's fingers.  "Fuck me, Dean.  Come on."

"Yeah, Sammy. Okay." Dean slid his fingers out of Sam and arched up. He fumbled with the bedside table, scrabbling for the condoms he'd tucked away. Ripping the packet open, he rolled it down his cock and then grabbed the lube. Dean slicked himself up and then lifted Sam's hips onto his thighs.

"You need one of those?" Sam fussed, holding Dean away for a moment. "Don't want a condom between us."

Dean frowned slightly. Truth be told, he didn't want one either, but Dean was hesitant. "I don't ever want to hurt you, Sammy."

"You've been careless, Dean?" Sam asked. He lifted himself up enough to stroke Dean's cock a few times and pull off the condom.

"Never," Dean groaned, softly and hoarsely. He shook his head, not sure he wanted Sam to be in any kind of risk, anyway. "Sam, are you certain?"

Sam tossed the condom away and pulled himself closer to Dean. "Now, Dean. Want you this way. Nothing between us."

Looking into Sam's eyes, Dean nodded. He reached for the lube again, this time slicking his bare cock. Dean pulled Sam closer, lifting his hips over Dean's thighs again and lined himself up. He pushed forward slowly, easing gently inside Sam on a harsh breath.

Sam bit his lip, eyes fluttering shut on the wave of sensation- pain, pleasure and delight that they had finally gotten to this moment. He opened them to watch Dean's face as he finally sunk in that last inch. "Dean."

"Sam," Dean breathed his brother's name, hips pressing in hard while he held himself poised over Sam. He looked into Sam's eyes and then leaned in to kiss him.

Sam opened his mouth and kissed Dean back, lifting his hips into Dean pleadingly. There was still pain, but he enjoyed that as much as pleasure, a reminder that this was reality, and not the dreams from before. He could linger in this half-pain, half-pleasured state forever and be happy. 

Dean took a deep breath, pulled his hips back, groaning at the tight hitch-drag when he slid his cock, so the tip was all that was left inside Sam. He was determined to do this on his schedule, knowing Sam would enjoy it once he relaxed into the pace.

Sam grunted a little as Dean pulled out leisurely until almost nothing was left inside. He tugged at Dean a bit with his legs. "What’re ya doing?"

"Taking my time," Dean gritted the words between his clenched teeth before hitching his hips and pushing forward again until he snugged tight to Sam. "Want to feel everything,"

Sam pushed back against the thrust, eager and impatient. "Please, Dean. Next time go slow."

 _Next time._ The thought of a next time caused Dean's hips to stutter against Sam's, his breath shaky when he slammed into Sam's thrust. "Fuck, Sam," Dean moaned, hips moving faster in response to Sam's plea.

"Yes, Dean!" Sam cried, head thrown back in bliss. "So good to me, Dean." He scrambled for purchase in the sheets, before reaching up to clutch Dean's back and hips. 

Dean pulled back and shoved forward again. He wanted to give Sam exactly what he wanted, but was torn by his own desire to feel everything. Dean still struggled to believe that this would last and was reluctant to not savor every minute.

Sam sensed the moment Dean gave in to him and felt a flood of remorse and guilt again. He threw his legs tight around Dean and held him tight and deep inside. Threading his hands through Dean's hair and kissed him slowly and softly. "What do you want, Dean?" he asked, breathing heavy and deep.

"You, Sam. Want just you." Dean pulled back and slammed forward again, groaning when he felt Sam tighten around him. He bucked and shook, leaning in to kiss Sam hard and deep.

"You've got me, Dean," Sam swore. "All yours. You don't even have to give up the others, not if you don't want." He tried to loosen his grip on Dean, become pliant in his arms.

"Only you, Sammy." Dean pulled back and then slid forward, his hips finally finding and keeping a strong rhythm. It was only slightly faster than before, but Dean felt it was a good compromise between what they both wanted.

"Only me?" Sam asked. He savored the way their bodies now worked together, as they did in the rest of life. Attuned and in harmony, the way it always should be. "God, Dean, this is perfect."

"I only want you, Sam." Dean punctuated his words with strong thrusts of his hips, arching Sam against him with every movement. "Feels so fucking good, Sammy."

Sam whimpered his agreement, voice lost to the pleasure now. He finally felt whole, healed from the visions and dreams that had haunted him for the past weeks. His body spiraled toward its final release, free at last

Dean felt the change in Sam, the way his brother's body relaxed and opened to him. He took Dean in deeper and easier, clamping down when Dean pulled back. "So good, Sammy. Wanna watch you touch yourself. Jerk yourself off. Wanna see, Sammy."

Sam wrapped a hand around himself and worked in time with Dean. "Close, Dean. Not gonna fuck last."

"Don't hold on, Sam. Want you to come for me. Show me what you look like when you come." Dean planted his hands on either side of Sam's shoulders and ramped up the pace of his thrusts, every few strokes raking over Sam's prostate.

"Whatever you want, Dean," Sam promised, stroking himself harder and faster. He wanted to please Dean so badly it was a physical ache.

Arching his back, Dean pulled back and slammed his hips forward twice and then a third time, his control wire thin, while he waited for Sam to bring himself off. "C'mon, Sammy. Show me how good this is."

Knowing Dean held back for him, Sam dragged his nail hard over the bundle of nerves at the head of his cock, just breaking the skin. The shock of pain combined with heady pleasure and threw Sam into spasms of release, coating him in sloppy spurts.

Sam's body milked Dean and he could only hold on a moment, the increased pace combined with the rhythmic stroking shaking him to the edge of release. He leaned down, stole Sam's breath in a kiss and emptied himself inside Sam's body.

Sam felt the slickness leak out of his ass, even with Dean still deep inside him. His cock twitched again, spurting out a few weak gushes that were twenty times more intense than the last. Dean's. Dean's at last. Dean's forever. 

Dean trembled above Sam, shock waves rocking his body, before he slowly lowered himself to rest on top of Sam. He knew he couldn't stay there for long, but Dean soaked up the closeness they shared in those moments.

Sam wrapped himself around Dean and sighed happily. Tucking his face in the corner of Dean's neck, he whispered, "How much longer do we have this place?"

"Coupla days, at least." Dean rubbed his cheek against Sam's head. "Can probably wrangle a few more after that if you really want, Sammy."

Sam turned his head and sought out Dean's mouth. "Can we anoint every surface in a few days?"

"If we try hard enough." Dean quirked an eyebrow at Sam when he pulled back from the kiss. "That our goal?"

"Just a thought," Sam said with a smile. "This place'll always be ours then, no matter who lives here after us."

Dean's heart melted at the thought, though he didn't show the emotion. "Yeah, Sam, we can do that." He leaned in and kissed Sam gently.

"And then I'll be good for the road again, Dean." Sam smiled with all his heart, love in his eyes. "Follow you wherever you want to go."

"Don't want you to follow, Sam. Want you at my side like you've always been." Dean rolled to the side, pulling from Sam's body and then settling with his chin on Sam's chest.

"Then I'll do that, Dean," Sam said with a smile. "Whatever you want."

"Whatever we want." Dean was going to hammer home, for as long as it took, that they were in this together, equals in everything.

Sam blinked at him and nodded a little. "Yeah. Ok. But... it's not like you ever thought much for yourself before, Dean. I just want you to start doing that."

Shrugging, Dean rolled onto his back next to Sam, one hand still resting on Sam's forearm. "It'll always be about us, Sam. Always has been, and I like it that way."

Sam rolled to follow and put his head on Dean's chest, listening to his strong heart. "Then we'll do that, Dean. Us. First and foremost."

Dean smiled and wrapped his arms around Sam with a sigh. He wriggled slightly to get comfortable and yawned. Life with Sam was going to be the best ever, and Dean looked forward to seeing where the road would lead them.


End file.
